


Breaking Point

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-07
Updated: 2007-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: When Hermione accepts a date with Oliver Wood the tension between she and Ron reaches it's breaking point





	1. A Slow Simmer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: _**Another Older Fic**_  


* * *

Hermione Granger was at her breaking point. She pushed at the stray curls that had fallen across her forehead and sighed heavily.

“Ron Weasley is an insufferable prat,” she muttered, as she settled back against the largest tree at the Burrow and relived the events that had lead her there. The tension between them had been building for weeks, from the moment she had announced that she had accepted a date with Oliver Wood. It wasn’t as if Hermione had dated all that much; she’d always been too busy studying, assisting Harry in his fight against Voldemort, and being Head girl. It just hadn’t been important to date, but now that they had left school she was tired of being alone. She’d tried to explain that to Ron, but his only response was a biting retort that she wasn’t alone—she had him and Harry.

It wasn’t her fault Ron had never seen her as a woman. She had needs, she wanted to feel loved and not as someone’s best friend. She wanted to experience the love that women and men shared, the type of love that bound one to someone forever. If she had to be completely honest with herself, that was what she really wanted from Ron: she wanted him to see her as a woman. Thinking back over the last seven years, she wondered when her feelings for Ron had changed, or had she always had feelings for him that went beyond friendship? Hermione leaned her head back against the tree and closed her eyes; desperately wishing she could just disappear.

Ron Weasley stared blankly at the ceiling in his bedroom, lying prone against his pillows; his body trembled with suppressed anger. What was wrong with Hermione? Going out with Oliver Wood, when she didn’t even like Quidditch! Ron ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. Why did it bother him so much, every time he thought about Hermione having a date? He couldn’t stand the thought of Oliver kissing her, or touching her… It was driving him mad.

How could she say that what he and Harry gave her wasn’t enough? She wasn’t alone, damn it. She had him--she was just too busy with books and spells to notice. His feelings for her changed in fourth year, or maybe they had always been there just below the surface, and had just been waiting for the perfect time to tell her. Sitting up on his bed he realized he’d been lying to himself. He wasn’t waiting for the perfect time to tell her, he was a coward pure and simple. He had rationalized the situation to death. He wasn’t good enough for her, they fought too much, and the only thing that they had in common was Harry. He was an arse. He’d been treating her as if she’d committed a crime for wanting affection and love.

Ron stood up and walk to the window. It was time to talk to Hermione, and he only hoped he lived longer enough to tell her how he felt.

Hermione could sense someone approaching her, and slid her hand into her pocket she pulling out her wand and leaping into standing position, wand at ready.

“Whoa, Hermione!” Ron held his hands up, “Reckon you could put that down?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, and shot Ron a glare, “Did you come out her to insult me some more?”

She watched as Ron motioned for her to sit down. She stood there for a moment weighing her options, before joining him on the hard ground. She felt his eyes trace over her features. She could tell he was nervous by the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and simply waited to see what he was going to say.

“ Hermione, I came out here to apologize,” Ron whispered.

Hermione stared at Ron in amazement; he’d never apologized first. She watched as he ran his hands through his red hair, making it stand on end. She sat there unresponsive for a moment, disbelief rendering her speechless.

“You’re apologizing?” Hermione whispered.

“Hermione, I reckon I haven’t been very nice about the whole Oliver thing,” Ron muttered.

“No, you haven’t been.” Hermione voice was sharp, “Ron why? Do you not want me to be happy?” Hermione willed him to meet her gaze. When he finally lifted his eyes to hers, she shivered at the look in his blue eyes.

“Hermione, of course I want you to be happy! I thought you were happy!” Ron replied, as he scooted closer to her. “I thought you were happy.”

“Do you want me to be alone? Do you think I don’t deserve to be loved?” Hermione said softly. She could feel the heat coming from his body, and she was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

“ No Hermione! ‘Course you deserve to be loved!” He picked up her hand.

“So tell me then, why does it bother you so much that I have a date Ron?” Hermione closed her fingers around his and squeezed his hand. “ I don’t understand.”

Hermione watched Ron as he flushed, seemingly struggling with his words, but with his reply her heart sunk. “ I’m just looking out for you. You’re my best friend and all.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to dictate how I live my life.” Hermione dropped his hand and stood up. “You don’t have the right to tell me whom I can and cannot date Ron.”

“ Hermione,” Ron started, but was quickly interrupted by Hermione’s continuing tirade,

“You come down here and apologize, but what are you apologizing for?”

Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. “ Why don’t you admit it? You’re jealous!”

“No, I’m not, ” Ron bellowed out. “ I’m not jealous!”

Hermione watched as his cheeks flushed red with anger. “ Oh so it wouldn’t bother you if I kissed Oliver, or let Oliver touch me.” Hermione taunted.

Ron saw red. the image of his Hermione letting Oliver Wood touch her was just too much to bear.

“Fine, Hermione! You do what you want I wash my hands of it! ” Ron spat out, towering over her petite frame. He turned to go back to the house, leaving her standing there alone and angry as usual. The prat always runs away, Hermione thought angrily.

“Ron Weasley, don’t you walk away from me!” Hermione grabbed his wrist. “You’re going to hear what I have to say.”

“I will not! I’ve heard enough Hermione. Go and shag Oliver, for all I care. Shag him to your heart’s content, but leave me the bloody hell out of it!”

Ron pulled his wrist from her grasp and turned on his heel, stomping off towards the Burrow.

Hermione would have none of it. If he wouldn’t listen by choice, then he would by force. She pulled her wand out and cast the leg locker curse upon Ron, who immediately fell to the ground. He reached to pull his wand, but before he could even get a good grip on it, Hermione calmly said, “Expelliarmus!”

“Hermione, I’m not kidding, release me!” Ron growled out, his eyes widening in fear as Hermione raised her wand again and cast a simple silencing spell so he couldn’t speak.

  
“For once Ron, you are going to listen to what I have to say.”


	2. Begining to Boil

Hermione was beyond logic, anger and hurt flowed through her body. Emotion fueled her every action; she had cursed him and silenced him, and he was going to hear what she had to say whether he wanted to or not.

“You are going to listen to what I have to say Ron.” Hermione spat out. She watched as Ron soundlessly moved his lips and felt strangely satisfied for having silenced him. She approached his prone figure and towered over him openly letting her eyes drink him in. Her eyes trail the length of his body, taking in the long legs, broad chest, and rugged face that had haunted so many of her dreams.

“Ron, I have thought about this, and your issue with my seeing someone is not about protecting me or looking after my best interest.” Hermione watch Ron raising his hands to his ears, leaping forward she grabbed his hands and forced them to the ground on either side of his body. Placing her knees astride his body she pressed them into his arms, trapping him so that he couldn’t cover his ears.

“You don’t want me to go out with Oliver because you don’t want anyone to have me.” Hermione said through clenched teeth. “You made that perfectly clear in our fourth year.”

Hermione continued desperately biting back tears, “You didn’t want me then, but you didn’t want Viktor to have me either.” She shifted her weight, her knees crushing his arms, and she saw a wince of pain streak across his face. “You don’t want me now.

"I’ve tried so hard to be there for you. I put my own feelings on hold to be there for you. I’ve tried to be the type of friend you needed.” Hermione couldn’t control the trembling in her lower lip. “I’ve obviously failed miserably.”

“What did I do that was so wrong?” Ron mouthed silently.

Hermione gave up battling her tears, and let them spill down her cheeks. “ You hurt me Ron! You’ve done nothing these last two weeks but insult me and question my judgment! I’m lonely and it’s because of you! I’ve been lonely for so long I can’t remember not being lonely, not feeling alone. ”

Hermione’s body shook with the force of her sobs, she continued to speak her heart breaking with each word that fell from her lips.

“You’ve never seen me! Never even taken notice of the fact that I’m a woman.” Her voice cracked and for a moment she seemed unable to go on.

Hermione knew she was dangerously close to revealing her true feelings to Ron. She desperately wanted to save herself the humiliation. Save herself the pity he would feel when he found out she had fallen for him. She took deep breaths, trying desperately to compose herself. She watched the emotions play across Ron’s face, his expression a mix of shock and confusion.

She leaned closer, whispering in his ear, “Why haven’t you ever noticed me? Am I that repulsive to you?”

She felt her tears coming on again as she pushed herself up off of him. She gazed at him, her heart breaking, and then took off running towards the Burrow.

**********

Ron managed to pull himself upright, wincing slightly at the pain in his arms and wrists. He was torn between raging anger that she had left him here like this, and complete shock that he had the capability to cause Hermione this much pain. He couldn’t believe what a git he’d been. He remembered an expression he’d read in one of Hermione’s books: the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Hurting her making her cry was not what he’d intended, he wanted so much to tell her how he felt but when the time came he just couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come.

Bloody Hell, what a mess, he thought, as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

How had he managed to mess this up so badly? The simple truth was he was stuck; he couldn’t go after her because she had cursed him, he couldn’t yell for help because she’d silenced him. When he got back to the Burrow he and Hermione were going to finish this, and winner takes all.

He was torn between shaking her and taking her into his arms to snog her senseless. How dare she say he never noticed her! Granted, he may not have realized she was a girl until fourth year, but he did notice her eventually. She was beautiful, smart, and barking mad. He could watch her for hours as she read a book by the fire, watch her as her cheeks got rosy and she bit her lip, lost in whatever book she was reading. He loved that she always had an answer for everything, and her cool intellect turned him on more than she could know. He occasionally picked a row with her just to watch her eyes flash, and her cheeks glow pink with rage. His fondest memory of Hermione was the way she looked in the common room during their Yule Ball disagreement. He wound her up, trying to get her to the point where she would break and let him really have it. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face as she screwed it up in anger, as she told him to ask her first next time and not as a last resort. Ron stopped breathing for moment. Gods he’d been so thick, she had told him in fourth year that she fancied him and he’d never noticed. He’d simply thought she hadn’t gotten the point and slipped back into best friend mode.

Horrified, guilt flooded Ron when he realized she was right--he did take her for granted. She was a wonderful friend, unswervingly loyal, never letting Harry or himself down when it came to anything. She stayed his friend through everything, even when he and Harry had that fight in fourth year. He’d been in the wrong then and she stood by him anyway, offering her silent support and friendship. She never seemed to care that he was a total prat, or that he came from a family where everyone outshined him.

Ron’s heart pounded wildly, he was close to something and knew it. Suddenly it came to him, she was his everything. He didn’t want to imagine one day of his life without her in it, and he couldn’t imagine it. He wouldn’t survive without her because he loved her. He didn’t want another man to comfort her, or love her. It was as if he was bound to love her and only her forever. Ron lifted his hands to his face and felt sick to his stomach when he realized she was the one thing he couldn’t live without and he’d driven her away.

Ron took a deep breath trying to calm his thoughts and formulate a plan to get out of the situation he was stuck in. There were two options: one he could sit there wrapped up in self pity, or he could attempt to reach the Burrow where he might find someone to undo the curse she had placed on him. His choice was clear, and he chose the second option. When he got back the Burrow he thought ruefully he would pay the piper so to speak. He used his arms to propel his body backwards on his bum, a determined smile crossed his features, and he wondered how long it would take him to reach the Burrow.  



	3. Coming to a Head

Hermione marched into the Burrow. She was enraged not only with Ron but with herself; she prided herself on being able to maintain control, and she’d almost lost it back there with Ron. She came close to revealing all the feelings she’d kept hidden and locked away. Confessing how she felt about him would have meant sacrificing her pride and leaving herself open to rejection. She let the screen door slam shut behind her and tore through the kitchen, and as she turned the corner to go up the stairs she ran directly into Mrs. Weasley.

“Hermione my goodness, where are you off to in such a hurry?” Molly Weasley said, struggling to regain her balance.

“Away from here, and away from your bloody prat of a son!” Hermione said.

“Of all the stupid, blind and arrogant fools, how could a lovely family like yours include him?” Hermione took a deep breath and pushed at her fring.

“Hermione,” Molly asked hesitantly, “did Ron do something to upset you?”

“He does something to upset me on a daily basis!” Hermione shook her head.

“I’ve got to go Molly, and I’ve stayed too long. I’m going to get a room at the Leaky Cauldron until I start teaching at Hogwarts in the fall.” Hermione finished, unable to look the woman who had taken her in when her parents were killed.

“Hermione,” Molly started but was silenced quickly when Hermione interrupted.

“No, It’s just time. If I want to salvage what is left of my friendship with Ron, I have to go before I wind up hating him.” Hermione was taking gasping breaths, desperately trying to stop the sobs which were threatening to break free. She pushed her way past Molly and took off up the stairs, not pausing to look back.

Ron had made very little progress in his journey back to the Burrow, and quite frankly he was exhausted. He lay back in the soft grass panting, trying to get his second wind when his eyes flew open in horror.

“Ronald Arthur Weasley!” His Mother’s stern voice echoed in his ears. “What in the name of Merlin did you do this time?”

Ron moved his mouth to speak forgetting about the silencing spell. It was then he noticed his Mother’s face. It was flushed with anger, her eyes flashed, and for the first time he was afraid of his Mother as a witch.

“Ronald Weasley you answer me this minute!” she bellowed and Ron reflected how much they were a like, and marveled at how she sounded quite a bit like he sounded bellowing at Hermione. He started making frantic gestures at his throat and legs hoping his Mum would get the hint.

Much to his chagrin she burst out laughing, “Cursed you did she?” Molly snorted as tears filled her eyes. “I love that girl, she’s got fire.” She pulled her wand and called out, “Relegare incantantem.” A pale yellow light surrounded Ron as her incantation removed the spell Hermione had placed on him.

“Now Ronald, what did you do to Hermione?”

“Mum,” Ron muttered, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He turned to head back to the Burrow but his Mother’s words caused him to abruptly stop and whip his head around to look at her.

“Ron, she’s packing. She’s going to leave.”

“What!” Ron ran his hand through his hair and felt his heart pounding widely in his chest. “What!”

“I’m going to tell you what you’re going to do,” Mrs. Weasley insisted, “You are going to march yourself right back up to the house and tell that girl how you feel about her.”

“Hermione knows she’s my best friend.” Ron stammered out keeping his gaze focused firmly on the ground.

“Codswallop! You love that girl and have since you were twelve years old,” Molly replied, closing the distance between them. She took his chin and forced him to look up at her. “Ron you’re going to let fear and pride cost you the most important thing in your life .”

He knew she was right, and he certainly wasn’t going to let Hermione leave without trying to convince her to stay.

“Mum, what do I do?”

“Talk to her. I’m going to meet your Father for dinner at the office. He’s keeping such horrid hours that I never see him.” Molly smiled ruefully. “You have at least three hours to set things straight Ron. If you don’t I will put those bars on your windows that I threatened you with.”

Ron bent and kissed her on the cheek before turning and rushing off towards the house.

Hermione glanced around the room she had called home since her parents were killed. She didn’t want to leave, and yet she didn’t see she had a choice. She threw her trunk open with a growl and began tossing items in. She was working herself up to a good tantrum, and she stomped her feet.

“Stupid, bloody fool,” she muttered under her breath. “Bane of my existence, stubborn arse.” She paused her tirade, and searched for more adjectives to describe Ron.

She jumped when a voice interrupted her thoughts, “Sounds like you have me pegged.”

She turned to find Ron leaning against the doorframe, looking hot and sweaty, and God help her dead sexy.

“What do you want Ron?”

“Several things actually ,” he said as he walked into the room and shut the door.

“I think we’ve said quite enough,” she spat out. “And by the way, did I invite you in?” Hermione stalked across the room trying to get pass him to fling open the door.

She involuntarily shivered when he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stop, “Let me go! Damn it Ron!”

“You’re going to listen to me, you owe me that much Hermione.” He met her gaze firmly.

“Fine, you’ve got five minutes,” she muttered sitting down on the bed.

“Well?” she said impatiently.

“You were right, I’m jealous.” She could tell he was nervous as he raked his hands through his hair. “I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you, making love to you.”

Hermione gasped and lifted her eyes to his. She felt butterflies dancing in her stomach and gulped at the desire and heat she found reflected in those eyes.

“You were wrong about something though, I’ve noticed you. Everyday since fourth year.” He kept his eyes focused on hers and knelt on the floor in front of her.

“Ron,” Hermione started but was cut off by his fingers on her lips, she felt like her whole body was on fire from that simple touch.

“No, let me finish,” he whispered, picking up her hand. “I notice everything about you; the way you bite your lip when your concentrating, the passionate way you defend your friends, your face haunts my dreams, and you are the most wonderful person I have ever met.” Ron fell silent for a moment. “I love you Hermione, I have since the day we met I was just too afraid to admit it. I’ve done nothing to deserve you.”

Hermione’s mouth hung open in shock, wonder, and an overwhelming sense of happiness.

“Please don’t leave Hermione,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like you have to.”

Hermione lost all ability to form a coherent thought, and gave up trying to resist the impulse to kiss him. She bent forward until her mouth was level with his, she could feel his breath coming in little puffs against hers, pausing only for a moment she claimed his lips.


	4. Boiling Over

~ Hermione lost all ability to form a coherent thought, and gave up trying to resist the impulse to kiss him. She bent forward until her mouth was level with his, she could feel his breath coming in little puffs against hers, and pausing only for a moment she claimed his lips.~

Hermione slid her lips against Ron’s and marveled at the softness of his lower lip. A thrill ran through her at the low moan of surrender that came from deep in his chest. She could feel it vibrate against her lips, and took advantage of the slight parting of his lips to tease him by running her tongue lightly along his bottom lip. Her heart pounded when he pulled her to her to the floor in front of him, his lips never leaving hers, and she let out a groan when his arms snaked around her waist to fit her body to his.

Her hands slid up and down his arms, and she reveled in the shivers that flowed from his body to hers.

He lifted his lips from hers and looked at her with a gaze so intense that she felt moisture flood her center.

“Hermione, I didn’t say I love you because I wanted something like this to happen between us.”

She felt her heart drop, she buried her face in his chest, and she felt the shame and guilt wash over her. What must he think of her? She was acting like a scarlet woman, and she could feel the heat rise across her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his shirt, trying to bite back the tears threatening to break free.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” He threaded his hands through her hair, and forced her to look up at him.

“I thought you wanted me.” she tried to turn her head so that he wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes. It’s okay if you don’t.”

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from those eyes. They seemed to see into her very soul and it was quite disconcerting.

“I do want you. I’ve wanted you every bloody night for the last four years.”

His hands where sliding through her hair, sending delightful tremors along her spine, and she held her breath waiting for him to continue.

“You’re everything to me Hermione,” he whispered against her lips before sliding them along her jaw line, “you have been the object of every single erotic fantasy that I’ve ever had.”

A whimper of need escaped her lips. “Make love to me, Ron.”

She smiled in satisfaction when she felt a violent shudder run through him, and groaned as his lips came down on hers. This was no gentle kiss—it was full of fire, and Hermione felt herself being consumed in the flames. He plundered her mouth, sliding his tongue to dance against hers, and she pushed herself against him. She moaned when she felt his erection pressing hard against her and she slid her hands through his hair angling his head to feel his lips hard against hers.

With a tug he pulled them slowly to their feet, and his hands left her hair to slide across her breasts. She arched into his caress as his hands slid slowly across her breast, and she moaned against his lips.

She wanted—no needed—to feel his skin, and she slowly inched his shirt up baring creamy white skin covered in freckles. They pulled apart for a moment and Ron lifted his arms allowing her to remove his shirt. Her eyes trailed over his chest, and she lifted a hand to hesitantly trail her fingers across his broad shoulders and down his arms.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered placing a kiss on his shoulders, “even more than I dreamed.” She trailed kisses along his shoulder until she reached the crook of his neck, and she paused to suckle the soft skin where his neck and shoulder met.

He whimpered and raised his hands to the front of her dress, sliding the buttons from their holes with trembling fingers.

“Hermione, I’ve never…” His voice trailed off when she nibbled on his ear and slid her tongue along the shell.

“You’ve never what?” she whispered and drew back slightly.

“I’ve never, I mean… I’ve never done this. I’ve only dreamed about it.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. She realized only in that moment what power she had over him.

“Show me… tell me what I did in your dream.”

He let out a strangled moan, his eyes closing and desire coming off of him in waves.

“You came to me, and slid your dress off.”

His eyes widened when she took a step back, and shrugged her dress off her shoulders.

“Like this?” she asked when she was standing there clad only in her bra and knickers.

“Merlin,” he said his voice husky with need. “Yes…”

“Then what?” she whispered and closed the distance between them. She trailed kisses across his chest and smiled against his skin when his hands fisted at her waist.

“You took off my clothes.”

Her heart pounded in her chest and she nervously wondered if she had the courage to follow through with this game they were playing. She ran her hand along his waist and cupped his erection. Glorying in the realization that she had aroused him to this point, and her mind recalled a Muggle romance novel that she had read when she realized he was wearing trousers that buttoned at the fly. She slid her tongue down the center of his chest, following the trail of light red hair that tapered just below his waistband. She heard a his strangled moan from above her when she sunk to her knees in front of him.

She looked up and found him clenching his jaw, his face concentrating on simply maintaining control over himself, and she realized she wanted to see that restraint snap.

She grasped the edge of his trousers in her mouth and lightly tugged the first button loose, and then slid her teeth lower. She grasped the fabric between her teeth again, and her nose brushed against his erection as she undid the last button.

Looking up at him she realized she’d succeeded in snapping his self control and saw fire burning in those electric blue eyes. He reached down, lifting her to her feet, and with a growl, his lips slammed down on hers. He seemed intent on devouring her whole and Hermione didn’t mind. She met each thrust of his tongue with a parry of her own, whimpering when his hands slid between them and undid the front clasp on her bra, and he pushed it aside roughly, and Hermione felt her knees buckle when he bent his head to suckle at her nipple. His other hand slid down the length of her body to cup her mons, and he applied a subtle amount of pressure causing her to cry out and arch into his hand.

“Do you want me to show you what I did in my dream?” he whispered, and darted his tongue out to tease her nipple with its tip.

“Please…” Her voice ending on moaning as he continued the pressure on her center. She was going out of her mind, her body ached for completion and she slid her hands inside the opening of his trousers to cup him through the silk of his boxers.

He let out a strangled cry and his hand left her center to grab her wrist. He lifted her into his arms and lay her gently on the bed.

“In my dreams, I’d start with your lips,” he whispered against her ear.“ Then I’d slide my tongue down to your breasts.”

She cried out when he teased her nipples into hard points, darting back and forth between them. Her head thrashed helplessly on the pillow as waves of pleasure surrounded her.

“Then I’d reach down and slide your knickers down your legs.” and his hands pulled at her knickers, awkwardly tugging them from her body.

Hermione’s eyes flew open and met his when he slid his finger between her folds. They groaned in unison as he teased her gently, rubbing his fingers over her clit.

“You’re wet… and warm… and so bloody much better than my wildest dream.

He continued to caress her, eyes not leaving hers, and his seemed to widen with each cry that came from her lips. She could read the disbelief, the pleasure, the need. He seemed surprised that he could evoke this much passion in her.

“Ron,” she moaned and arching her hips, “I need more.”

She almost cried when he pulled his hand from her, and bent to kiss her lips. She watched through eyes heavy with desire as he stood up, sliding his trousers and boxers to the floor, and she spread her legs to allow him to cover her completely.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, groaning when she rubbed her center against him. “Really sure?”

“I love you Ronald Weasley, make me yours.”

With a low moan he slowly moved his hips forward, pushing against her opening, and paused when he reached her natural barrier.

He panted above her, reaching down to entwine their hands together, and with a nervous look, he slid his hips forward and pushed his way past.

Her eyes flew open, widening in pain, and she saw the tight control back again. Several tears trickled from the corner of her eyes, and he kissed them away. He held himself rigid and she could sense he wanted to move but was giving her time. The pain began to recede after a few moments and gave way to a curious sense of fullness.

“It’s okay, Ron,” she whispered, then kissed his lips.

He began a slow thrust in and out, suddenly heat began spreading through her, she lifted her hips to meet each of his thrust. She lifted her legs around his waist pulling him further inside.

“More…”

He complied, his thrusts driving her body into the bed. His hand left one of hers, rubbing her clit in time with each of his thrust. He growled out, and she could feel the tension in his back as she raked her nails along his spine.

Spell binding pleasure crashed through her suddenly. A hot ribbon of heat unfurled in her stomach and her body tensed, and with her gazed locked on his she plunged head first over the edge. She felt his body shudder then seem to give way as he spilt into her. Thrusting erratically, he moaned her name and she answered him with a groan of her own. Spent, he collapsed against her, his weight holding her to the bed, and his body shook with aftershocks.

She ran a shaking hand across his back. “I love you Ron.”

He rolled off her and moaned at the loss of contact.

“I love you too, Hermione,” he whispered, claiming her lips in a chaste kiss. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me, even if I’ve never deserved it.” He whispered and met her eyes, “Thank you for giving me this.”

“It was my pleasure, and Ron, you’ve always deserved it.” She smiled sleepily at him and snuggled closer against him.

He pulled her against him and kissed her head when he caught a familiar tune falling from her lips.

“Weasley is my king, ” she sang sleepily. “I changed the words in fifth year.”

He grinned and glanced at the clock, realizing his mother wouldn’t be home for several more hours he let him self-drift off, and for the first time he truly felt like a king.

  



End file.
